


A Family Against All Odds

by americant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Panic Attacks, Parallel Universes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Reunions, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americant/pseuds/americant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war at Hogwarts has left the Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville in shock. They distance themselves from everyone while trying to forget the horrors they faced. Fortunately, a weird series of events leads them into a parallel universe where practically everything is perfect. At least, until they are revealed to the world who they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry didn’t think the class could get any duller. After sitting in the chair listening to Slughorn go on and on about the potion they were about to make for nearly an hour, he found himself wishing they could just start already. He knew this potion would be exceptionally easy to make; hell, even Neville could have done it, now that Snape couldn’t bother him.

“Alright, everyone, get set up and get going!” Slughorn finished excitedly, oblivious to the bored expressions on the students’ faces.

As Harry predicted, the potion was effortless. Hardly paying attention to it, he carried on until it was nearly done.

“Are you sure that’s right? It shouldn’t be so dark. And blue.” Ron pointed out in the instructions where it said the brew should be a light orange hue.

“I would have to agree with Mr. Wellinby, Harry. It appears as though you’ve made a very different potion.” Slughorn popped up, seemingly from nowhere, peering admirably into Harry’s cauldron. He didn’t notice Ron turning red from his use of the wrong name. “Are you quite sure you added frog liver concentrate and not just a frog liver? While that would make a lovely Tempus Subsinctus potion, or even a stomach reliever, I’m afraid that was not the assignment. Though that you were able to make this is more evidence to your talent, I must ask you to restart, as one of the possibilities is exceptionally illegal. I’m sure my best student can manage to finish in the remaining time. Oh, and please dump it in the basin, the fluxweed and salamander blood don’t go very well with cleaning spells.” The professor then turned to check on another girl’s work.

After checking that all the correct items were at his station, Harry lifted the cauldron to dump it out. Some of the students, having already finished the assignment, were doing various work for other classes. Unfortunately, this included silent spell casting.

Suddenly, Harry felt a spell hit his knee, causing it to give out, and he soon found himself following his cauldron as they both fell to the floor. Despite any attempts to avoid landing in his work, Harry landed in the middle of the mess with a mouthful of the sticky liquid. Though, as the brew had spread to about a third of the room, it would have been very impressive had he not landed in it.

“All right there mate?” Ron carefully stepped in up to his friend to help him up, only to fall in as well.

Laughing, Harry replied, “Yeah, great. I always wanted to swim in the Potion’s classroom.”

“Oh my, this is a mess, isn’t it? Harry, dear boy, why don’t you head back to your dorm and get cleaned up. You too, Mr. Whitlery. I’m sure I can get a student from detention to clean this up.” Slughorn dismissed the two potion covered boys.

The remaining students skirted around the edge of the puddle and the drenched boys. 

On the way to the Room of Requirement, as neither wanted to dirty the common room or the showers, the two Gryffindors enjoyed the calm and quiet of the empty halls. Ever since the end of the war, the Golden Trio hardly ever got a moment to themselves. They were constantly being thanked, questioned, or just plain barricaded by the crowd they always seemed to attract. Whenever the three friends found themselves needing privacy, they often escaped to one of a few safe havens they had claimed over the last few months.

The first choice, surprisingly enough, was the Chamber of Secrets. Now that they could all at least ‘speak’ enough parseltongue to enter the chamber, they often hid there, as they were the only ones that now had the ability to open it. Harry found it completely hilarious whenever they tried speaking parseltongue though, because they never knew what they were actually saying. While they could at least imitate some of the sounds of the language, they couldn’t time it right. Ron usually ended up saying something along the lines of “My cups have intimidating” or “ She eats the table”.

On some nights, if they were feeling particularly claustrophobic, they slept in the Room of Requirement. Frequently, Neville also found refuge there with them, as he was revered as the Great Snake Slayer. Not very original, but most teenagers weren’t. The four bonded tightly together because of these sleepovers, causing them to drift slightly farther from the rest of the world. 

Hermione was still constantly mothering the boys, a habit which had been progressively getting worse since the war had ended. Harry personally thought she was expecting the war to restart, or for them to suddenly drop dead from a delayed curse from the last battle. 

Because of such behavior, the boys were completely unsurprised to see the third member of their trio wordlessly falling in step with them about four minutes later.

“How’d you get out of there this time?” Ron asked, halfway through their trip.

Hermione waved off the question. “It was hardly a challenge. I’d already finished, so I mentioned that you had forgotten your things and suggested that I should return them.” 

They all knew she had probably just announced her departure rather than ask permission. All three of them would do that at seemingly random times in all of their classes. Especially when they were attending different subjects, as when Hermione was in Arithmancy, or the boys were in History of Magic. Harry concluded this was probably due to a combination of a couple things:

One, Hermione was infecting them all with the same need to be in each other's presence. 

Two, they all had vicious flashbacks. Usually it was a memory from their year of hiding, but sometimes, it was from the last battle. None of them could shake the horrific memories of Harry lying at Voldemort’s feet, seemingly dead. They could never forget Fred’s last smiling word’s, or seeing Remus and Tonks lying peacefully at each other’s side. The images of the war haunted everyone, but those at the front line always had it the worst.

The rest of the walk up was spent playing a word game Hermione had played when she was little in the car with her parents. This was a common occurrence between them now, as a sort of insurance that the other’s were still alive and sane.. This time, Ron had started it off by beginning like this, “ We’re on our way to the Room of Requirement, and in our suitcase, we have an Acromantula.”

They continued on, each time trying to out-weird the last.

“... Bane the centaur.”

“... Canary Creams.”

“... a Death Eater.”

“... Errol.”

“... the Fat Lady.”

“... Gilderoy Lockhart’s left sock.”

“... the Holyhead Harpies.”

“... Igor Karkaroff.”

“... Jobberknoll.”

“... Kreacher’s nose hairs.”

By the time they had gotten to the room, they had made it through only to T(“...Thestral droppings”). Entering, they found a familiar sight: Neville wrestling gently with a very large, very deadly plant. This was, unfortunately, not the first time they had found Neville literally in the thralls of his new project. The three that had just returned from potions tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle their laughter, but eventually, a snort from Ron tipped Neville off to his audience.

“Oh, thanks guys. Just stand there and laugh it up, why don’t you. Mind helping me with this?” Neville greeted his friends,“ NO WAIT, DON’T GO NEAR THOSE!” 

Unfortunately, his warning came a few second’s too late, as he had figured out what the thin yellow vines did as soon as he had been trapped by them nearly half an hour earlier. Soon, all four of the brave students had foolishly been wrapped in the tendrils. It reminded them slightly of their run-in with Devil’s Snare back in first year, which was not a comforting thought.

“Thanks for the warning, mate.” 

“Sorry! I tried to tell you.”

“It’s alright Nev. Okay, any idea’s how to get out?”

“No clue. I’ve been stuck for ages.”

“Alright, so the herbology expert doesn’t know. You, Hermione?”

“ Me?! How should I know?”

“Because you’re brilliant.”

“Really, Ronald, flattery can’t get you anywhere right now.”

The four spent the next twenty minutes arguing until Hermione noticed something.

“Guys? Hey, boys. OH MY GOODNESS SHUT UP FOR A SECOND YOU THREE!" Frightened of Hermione even in their current situation, the boys quickly shut up. “Good. I’ve just noticed, wasn’t it yellow before?”

Sure enough, the once bright yellow vines were a dark green, which was rapidly turning into the same shade blue that covered Harry and Ron.

“That’s probably not good is it?” Harry guessed.

“No, it’s fine. A lot of plants absorb liquids. Though I’ve never seen it happen like this before.” Neville looked pensive for a moment before continuing in a slightly more panicked voice, “Do you guys feel like it’s getting tighter?”

Three sets of eyes widened as they realized what he meant.

“Yeah, that’s it, I’m getting us out of this. Sorry Neville, but I don’t fancy being crushed today.” That was when Ron, as the only one with access to his wand at the moment, decided to exclaim “Diffindo!” 

“RON NO!” Three voices chorused, slightly too late.

The white light shot from Ron’s wand, and when it made contact with a particularly large vine in the middle of the group, there was suddenly a vibrant blue light coming from every inch of the plant. The light grew brighter and brighter until finally, the entire plant exploded.

Now, though they were free of the confines of the plant, they found themselves with a new, though considerably less life threatening, problem. The entire room was now covered in the potion that had previously only covered Harry and Ron. Granted, this was no issue for them, as they had already been uncomfortably sticky and wet for the past half hour or so. 

Ever the savior, the Room of Requirement obviously sensed their need to be rid of the mess, so they were glad it had changed into a large room with many shower stalls. 

Sighing, the four lions gratefully each chose a stall and attempted to wash all of the potion off. By the time Hermione was done (“I had to wash out my long hair, do you have any idea how lucky you three are not to have to deal with this every day?”), Ron pointed out that it was nearing time for dinner.

“Say, Nev, what was that thing called, anyway?” Harry curiously probed.

“Dunno, it was a project for Herbology. We were supposed to find out what it was and decide how best to care for it. Guess I’ll have to find a new one now.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, man, I sorta panicked.”

“Nah, it’s alright. Won’t be too hard to start over, I just got it today anyway.”

With that, the Golden Trio and the Great Snake Slayer left for dinner.

***

A few minutes earlier, a certain Charms teacher was just exiting her quarters to do the exact same thing. 

Unfortunately, she had to patrol a few of the levels first. Starting from the eight level and working down to the Great Hall, the Professor set her thoughts on the current issues in the world. 

The Dark Lord had gone into hiding for the second time a few months ago, so the entire wizarding world was completely panicking again. She thought it was a tad ridiculous how they were more afraid of him when he was not present than when he was actually terrorizing them. Not that they should relax in his absence, she just thought they shouldn’t panic either.

Halfway through the eighth floor corridor, a first year Ravenclaw girl collided with the woman, sending her books and parchment flying.

“Goodness! Are you quite alright there, sweetheart?” the woman said worriedly.

“Y-yes,P-p-prof-fessor Pott-tter. Thank y-you.” Nervously, the girl packed the rest of her belongings into her bag, then raced off towards her common room.

Professor Lily Potter shook her head, smiling slightly. She certainly liked working with her students, but she felt bad for the first years. They always seemed so nervous and skittish. Thankfully, her daughter, who was currently enrolled in her third year at Hogwarts, showed no signs of the same behavior. Lily supposed that’s what having one’s mother and godfather for two teachers did to a student.

James and Lily had been so happy when Rosemary had come. After H- their son had been killed, they both had nearly lost all joy in the world. Although they always loved Rosie with all of their hearts, they knew there was something missing. A son-shaped hole now existed in their hearts. Every Halloween, they shut themselves in their rooms and mourned instead of celebrating with the rest of the school.

He would have graduated by now, Lily realized. He would probably have been starting Auror training now. Perhaps even working alongside his father and his own godfather. He might have become Quidditch captain. Maybe he would have been top of his class. He might hav-

Lily cut her train of thought when she realized that she had tears blurring her vision. She blinked away the evidence of her sadness and focused on her task.

Turning the corner, she collided with someone for the second time that night, though this time, they were large enough that both of them fell to the ground.

“I am so sorry! Are you okay?” 

She looked up into bright green eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Rosie! Wait up, would you?" Ginny Weasley was running through the halls trying to catch up to the third year. When she finally got to her Ginny said, "So? Are you ready for that Muggle Studies test?"

Ginny had been tutoring Rosemary in Muggle studies as her father was head of the misuse of Muggle artifacts in the ministry. Though she didn't know much about it; her father often added magic to change the purpose of an item.

"I guess so. I just don't understand how eletrikity works. I don't think any more studying will help either." The surviving Potter child replied.

"That's how I felt any first. Honestly, the first test is just a way for Professor Burbage to tell how much you do understand it. You'll spend more time on it next year."

As they started to go around a corner, Rosie said, "I hope you're right. I don't know if I ca-" but only got that far because she collided with a familiar woman.

"I am so sorry! Are you okay?" Rosie asked.

Her mother looked up to see who she had knocked into. Seeing it was her daughter, she sighed and said, "Sweetie, I know we don't hug very often, but did you really need to hit me so hard? I think you bruised my head." The girls giggled

"Sorry mum. Didn't see you."

"It's fine. Oh, while I have you, have you seen your father recently? He and that dog are supposed to meet me for dinner tomorrow and said they'd be here by now."

"Sorry, haven't seen him since last week when they came for... you know." Rosie got quiet realizing how touchy of a subject it was. Last week had been Halloween, and her parents and uncle Sirius had been locked up in their rooms again.

Since she never met her brother, Rosie felt no need to mourn a stranger, and had spent the night playing chess with Ginny, trying to cheer her up as best she could. The red head had spent the night mourning her own brother, who had died on the same night when he was a first year. That year, a mountain troll had found its way into the school, and while Ron had been trying to save another first year girl, a Hermione Granger that had no friends, both had been killed. No one had figured out how it got in the school, but the dark arts professor, Professor Quirrel, had gone missing only a month later. Most suspected he had been trying to gain access to Hogwarts for Voldemort, but then got punished for failing too many times.

Sometimes, Rosie wondered why so many children had died. She figured it was in order to break the wills of their parents.

Lily looked sad for half a second, but quickly smiled. "Thanks anyway, Rosemary. I'll see you two in class. Study hard!" She called as they went their separate ways.

***

It wasn't long before the four Gryffindors saw a familiar blonde figure skipping along the halls.

Seeing their friend, Harry called out, "Luna! Would you like to walk with us?"

She turned around and smiled. "Harry! I didn't know you were here. Ron? Neville? And Hermione! How lovely!" Luna spoke enthusiastically.

Hermione looked at her strangely. "Luna, are you feeling quite alright?"

"Oh just fine now that you all are here. I suppose I should take you now, then."

"Where?" Now used to the Ravenclaw's airy ways, Ron had much more patience with her than he did when first meeting her.

"Well, I think this situation best calls for going to McGonagall. She should know." Luna answered thoughtfully.

With that, she skipped off, leaving the others to attempt to keep up with her. They'd given up on trying to get a straight answer, as she seemed to want to be as vague as possible.

The journey to see the professor was quiet, but that was to be expected as it was almost dinner time, and students were usually . It wasn't until they reached the portrait of the fat lady that they questioned where they were going.

"Luna, why are we at our common room? McGonagall's office isn't here anymore. She's headmistress now, remember?" Hermione gently questioned.

"Don't worry, she's here. I know it. Just go into the head houses office. She's there."

Luna then spoke the password; it surprised them for two reasons. The first was that she knew the password at all. The second was that it had changed from "Victory at last", which had been the password since the term started, to "Baruffio".

Entering the room without Luna, Harry murmured, "I 'spose someone changed the password and is spreading it around."

The others looked sceptical, though that was not the dominant expression on their faces. They were all very nervous and paranoid, as anyone could see, if there was anyone around.

Neville approached the door cautiously, knowing that the other three were scanning the area for danger. They often wondered if they would ever stop looking for the enemy where they knew there wasn’t one, but today wasn’t that day. Hesitantly, Neville knocked on the door and opened it after hearing a shrill “Come in”.

Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, so the four relaxed when they saw their professor standing and reading a transfiguration text, muttering to herself. This wasn’t unusual, even after giving up her post as transfiguration teacher.

“Luna said you wanted to speak with us, professor?” Harry questioned, stepping forward.

“Luna? Lovegood? I don’t recall asking her to find anyone.” She looked up to see who had entered, and a confused look came over her face. “Who are you? You aren’t students here. How did you get in here?”

“Professor? It’s me. Harry? Don’t you recognize us?” Seeing the perplexed look become even more so, he continued exasperatedly, “Come on, professor. We’ve been your students for 7 years now. We fought in the war together?” Now seriously concerned with how she didn’t recognize them, all four backed up and drew their wands discreetly. “You aren’t Professor McGonagall, are you?”

She squinted her eyes suspiciously at their behavior and pursed her lips when they drew their wands. “I can assure you I am. What I would like to know is who you are, and what you’re doing in my office.”

This surely was their stern professor, Hermione thought, and put her wand away. Harry and Neville followed immediately, knowing how well Hermione knew their headmistress.

Ron wasn’t so convinced, and pointed his wand at her. “If you are McGonagall, then why don’t you tell us how many detentions Fred and George served their first year.”

“I don’t see how you would know, boy, but I will answer, if only to get you to put your wand away. They served a record of two-hundred and thirty-seven detentions.”

Now that all of them were sure it was their teacher, they relaxed from the fighting stance they had shifted into.

“Well, you seem to know me, so why don’t you tell me who you are, and how you’re in my office.”

No matter how bemused they were before, they were now thoroughly lost.

Again, Harry spoke up for the rest of them. “What are you talking about Professor? You must recognize us. It’s me, Harry. Harry Potter?”

The transfiguration teacher widened her eyes, giving her an owl-like look. She bolted to the floo, saying “Headmaster’s office” and after a few seconds came out. She then turned to them and said, “Who are you three, then?”

Puzzled as she was, Hermione spoke up. “I’m Hermione Granger, that’s Ron Weasley, and this is Neville Longbottom, ma’am.”

As she finished her sentence, McGonagall gasped and a person came through the fireplace. As soon as he stepped into their line of sight, the students immediately whipped out their wands.

The man frowned. “Well, that certainly isn’t a response I receive often in my own school.”

***

Albus Dumbledore was having a very boring day so far. There was very little Dark Lord activity recently, so he had no leads. Couldn’t do anything about that. No students had played any interesting pranks, so there wasn’t anything to look forward to at dinner. His lemon drop supply was quickly depleting, so he couldn’t get those out until the other order came in, in fear of finishing off the last of them and not having any if he had a sudden craving. Yes, it certainly was a boring day today.

That is, until the Deputy Headmistress frantically called him to her office for something urgent. He walked over to the drawer he kept his wand in, which was also unfortunately where he kept his licorice snaps. He didn’t like them anymore, so he decided to use them as guards for his wand. Quite inconvenient at times like this when he had very little time to coax them into handing it over.

It took a while longer than he would have liked, but Albus was able to snatch it from the vicious candy. As he entered Minerva’s office, he found that he was at the end of four wands.

“Well, that certainly isn’t a response I receive often in my own school.” He joked.

This appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as all four of the slightly familiar strangers now entered a fighting stance behind the boy with glasses.

“Perhaps you would like to speak first then, as you obviously don’t trust me.” Dumbledore spoke kindly.

Unsurprisingly, the boy in glasses spoke. “Who are you?”

Smiling, Dumbledore said, “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, at your service.”

“Are not!” The red headed boy exclaimed, before being elbowed by the smart looking girl.

The leader spoke again. “If you’re Dumbledore, then you’ll know what Voldemort’s father’s and mother’s names were.”

This was not what he was expecting at all. First off, not many had the courage to speak the name, not even his staff. There was another thing that worried the ancient man: no one knew those names. He himself only had found out three years prior. Nevertheless, he answered. “His mother’s name was Merope Gaunt, and his father’s name was Tom Riddle, after whom Voldemort was named.”

Though this was obviously the right answer, the response was not correct. The boy in the back dropped his wand in shock, the girl gasped and brought her hands to cover her mouth, and the red haired boy gaped at him. The leader was the most unusual response, as he paled and cast a very powerful bubble shield around only Dumbledore and himself. Now they could not see the others at all.

This impressed him greatly, though he was careful not to show it. Albus had not mastered this particularly difficult spell until he was well into his sixties. Even with his elder wand, he couldn’t ever get it to work for him. Not that he used it very often. It was a very obvious shield that gave away your position in battle and was not worth the magic it required to power the spell.

It didn’t take very long for the boy to speak. “Is that really you sir?”

Albus’ eyebrows knitted together. Why were these strangers so convinced it wasn’t him?

“I am quite sure that it is me. Now that you know who I am, would you mind telling me who you are?”

When he said this, the boy gained a very pained look on his face. “It’s me, professor. Harry Potter. Do you mean to say you don’t know who I am either?”

It was the headmaster’s turn to pale. That was impossible. It couldn’t be him.

“Oh I absolutely know who you are. Or at least who you are trying to impersonate.”

Albus’ wand seemed to appear out of thin air into his hand. This again received an odd reaction. Instead of a reciprocated wand pointed at him, he got bemused look, followed by a laugh.

“Blimey, never thought I’d see the day my old headmaster would point his wand at me. If you don’t believe me, ask me something only I would know. It’s only fair, I asked you one.”

Albus thought for a moment before finding a satisfactory question. “What is your father’s nickname and what was the name of his group of his friends when he was here at Hogwarts?” He was quite sure only he and the people he spoke of knew it, as well as Lily.

Once more, the boy laughed, this time with much more humor. “My father’s nickname was Prongs, Sirius’s was Padfoot, Remus was Moony, and Pettigrew was Wormtail. All of them made up the Marauders.”

Seeing Dumbledore lower his wand in awe, the boy, Harry, lowered the shield and said, “Now if you don’t mind, could you tell me what is going on?”

“I would quite like to know myself. Why don’t we continue this conversation in my office?”

***

This had to be the strangest thing to ever happen to Harry, which was certainly saying something. It would have taken a complete idiot to not figure out what had happened. Obviously, in the time he and Dumbledore had been in the shield, the others had figured it out as well. As soon as he turned Hermione, she whispered to him, “An alternate universe? Really? One were none of us are alive probably, right? Oh how exciting! I mean, not us being dead, but the new world! If we are different here, then other things must also be different!”

Before leaving McGonagall’s office, Harry turned to Dumbledore. “Would you mind if we stay here to talk for a moment? We’ll be there in a bit, just leave the floo open.”

With a smile and a twinkle in his eyes, Dumbledore nodded and walked into the flames. McGonagall glanced back at the teens before following Dumbledore.

“Alright, alternate universe. Great. Any ideas for this conversation?”

“Speaking to your dead headmaster isn’t exactly a normal occurrence for us, mate.” Ron said sarcastically.

“Well then you won’t have to talk. In fact, Harry, why don’t you just talk with him? We’ll just jump in when we need to.” Hermione said.

Harry looked around. “You guys really want me to take the reigns on this?”

“You’re the best at these kind of things, Harry,” said Neville. Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.

Harry let out an exasperated “Fine! Let’s get this over with.” and they entered the green flames.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The first explanation in the headmaster’s office took a very long time. Or at least it seemed that way.

"I believe we have come to the same conclusions, yes?" the headmaster started. After receiving a collective nod from the four students, he continued. "Since that is the case, then why don't you tell me how you all accomplished this?"

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, Professor, we have no idea. We'll figure out what happened eventually, but right now, we are just as clueless as you."

Dumbledore looked put out for a moment. Suddenly, he perked up in his chair and said "Oh! I suppose we should probably get all your parents involved! Who exactly are your parents?"

They hesitated. As they were in a completely new reality, it was possible that their parents were all dead. However, it was also possible that their parents were alive and well in this universe. That Neville's hadn't been tortured into insanity, and Harry’s were somehow alive. The risk was worth it. They couldn’t have lost more here than they did in their world. Harry quietly said, "Mine are James and Lily Potter, Ron's are Molly and Arthur Weasley, Hermione's are Noah and Penelope Granger, and Neville's are Frank and Alice Longbottom."

At first, Dumbledore nodded while he searched for a blank piece of parchment among the clutter on his desk, but once Harry mentioned Hermione's parents, the expression on his face progressively darkened.

“Dear me, that is quite unfortunate. I very regretfully have to say that Ms. Granger’s parents will be impossible to bring in. As will Mr. Longbottom’s.” He said mournfully.

For the group, the news about the Grangers and the Longbottoms were hardly unexpected. It was the lack of comment on one of the families that caught all of their attention.

Harry’s head was spinning. His parents were alive here. He would get to see them in the flesh. It wouldn’t just be an echo of them that had come from the wand of his enemy, or an image of them from the stone.

In the back of his head, Harry was aware that three sets of nervous eyes were burning a hole through his back. He knew Hermione was more concerned with Harry as she had yet to find her parents. Apparently, her spellwork was too good, and they had completely disappeared off the face of the earth. Additionally, Harry knew Neville was equally as concerned about Harry’s state rather than his own. He accepted that his parents would never return to a mentally stable status. Plus, it was Nev: he always put others ahead of himself.

Realizing the two professors were waiting for some kind of response or reaction, Neville took a deep breath and asked “May I ask what happened to them, Professor?”

He gave Hermione a sorrowful look and said, "I’m afraid that Mr. and Mrs. Granger have been missing for well over six years. I am so sorry, Ms. Granger."

Hermione looked into her lap for a moment before lifting her head and giving Harry a worried look.

She nodded slightly and turned back to the headmaster. "And Neville's parents? What happened to them?"

Dumbledore seemed to deflate even more. "That is perhaps a story for another time. I think you may have had enough grief already."

Harry heard Ron scoff off to the side of him, then a muffled slap, which probably came from Hermione. 

"With all due respect, Headmaster, I think we are able to handle anything you could possibly say,” Hermione said slightly sorrowfully.

Distantly, Harry wondered why Hermione and Neville weren’t more saddened by their loss than he was shocked by his gain. He figured that it was probably easier to accept you still don’t have something you didn’t have in the first place than that you suddenly have something you always wanted but never could get. Harry felt the sudden urge to scratch his head in confusion at his own thought.

Dumbledore gained a look that clearly said, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you". He shot a look at McGonagall, and she left the room, probably to contact the Weasleys and Potters.

“I suppose the first thing to happen was on a night when you were 14 months old, Mr. Longbottom. I believe your family and the Potter family had gone into hiding about half a year before then. I remember that your mother had gone to have a night out with Mrs. Potter, the first time they had both been away from their little boys since your birth. Your father, Mr. Longbottom, had stayed home alone due to a fever. Mr. Potter had offered to come over, but instead had his group of friends join him to take care of his own son, you, Mr. Potter. As you were in hiding, Frank had probably assumed you two would be safe alone at home.

“Unfortunately, this appeared to be incorrect, as when your mother got home that evening, she found Frank lying dead in the nursery. You had gone missing that night, taken by Death Eaters. I still don’t know how they found you. I know that Alice always blamed herself for what happened to her family. It just got worse when you were found two years later, obviously tortured for the entire time you had been missing. She probably thought that it was her selfishness that killed her husband and son. Not much later, she committed suicide. I deeply regret what happened, dear boy. I am so sorry.”

Dumbledore had hardly looked Neville in the eyes, sure that the boy was now entirely distressed. When he finally dared to look at the teens, he saw something he certainly didn’t expect to see in their faces after that story.

They all looked immensely relieved.

After a moment of confused silence, Dumbledore cleared his throat and said “Another surprise from you four. Those certainly aren’t the expressions I expected to receive from that story.”

They looked at him, a bit apologetic and a bit mournful. Harry finally spoke up.“Sorry sir, it’s just… that’s good. I mean, it’s not good, they’re dead. It’s just, well, I suppose it’s far better than what happened to them in our world.” 

Knowing that they probably wouldn’t elaborate, Dumbledore decided to direct conversation to something else.

“I suppose the next order of business should be-”

But the Headmaster was cut off. “Excuse me, sir, but I think we would all like to know where the rest of us are in this world.” Neville said.

Dumbledore nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I guess you would probably have noticed your absence eventually. To put it in a few words, you are all dead.” The for teens nodded expectantly. “Am I right in saying you already knew that? Of course you already knew. I think I’ll give you the short version of these, since you already seem to know everything about this reality,” he joked.

Ron and Neville both cracked a smile, but Harry sat nervously watching the door. He knew he had probably died on that Halloween night that he was famous for. He was much more worried about who would be arriving soon. Who would show up first? Or would they come together? Was Sirius still alive? After all, he probably hadn’t gone to Azkaban if his parents had lived. If they were all alive, then who else was alive? Had anyone even died? What would his parents say to him? Would they even want him? It had been over 17 years, what if they didn’t want to have a son anymore?

Harry snapped back into attention when he felt a soft nudge on his arm. He glanced at Hermione’s worried eyes and gave her a very unconvincing smile. Not that she would have been fooled in any case, she knew him too well. He turned his attention back to Dumbledore, who had just finished the short story of how this world’s Harry had died.

As expected, he had died on Halloween night, 1981. Wormtail had been sent alone in this reality. He had snuck up on James and Lily in the sitting room and stunned them before killing Harry. Though, as he wasn’t very good at spells of most sorts, Lily woke up in time to see the green light leave the wand. He was stunned and bound before he could lower his arm. Harry suspected that the Aurors were lucky to have gotten him alive.

Dumbledore then went on to explain what happened to Ron and Hermione, though Harry cut him off to save time. He wanted to ask Dumbledore the question that was on everyone else’s mind. 

“Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt, but we have a very important question to ask, and I’d like to ask it before our parents got here.” Harry said.

“Of course, my boy, but don’t you want to know what happened t-” the headmaster responded before he was interrupted again, this time by Ron.

“With all due respect, sir, me and ‘Mione know exactly what happened to us.”

“I think Ronald meant to say that we already knew that we were killed by the troll that got in our first year.” Hermione said, cutting a glare towards her boyfriend. “We would like to know what happened to Quirrel before we move on, though.”

“Oh. Well, he disappeared about a month later. Not quite sure what happened to him, but I have my theories. Now, your question?”

“Before I ask you, I think it’s important that you know that in our world, the war is over. It has been for about half a year. And that we were on the front line. And that we know where all of the horcruxes are,” Harry said, then waited impatiently for a response.

Dumbledore sat for a moment while he processed that information. After a moment, he opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out four items using his wand to levitate them out, three of which were familiar to the students. 

Hermione got up to inspect the mystery item. It appeared to be some kind of fancy quill. Harry immediately recognized it as a blood quill, though he suspected it didn’t just take blood.

“These are all I’ve found. Though I still have yet to find a way to get rid of them. Perhaps you could help,” Dumbledore explained.

"Well, at least that answers our question," Ron muttered.

Hermione lifted the quill into the air with her wand and inspected it closer. “These two didn’t exist in our world.” She let it drop to the desk again. “Where did you find them?”

“The quill was sent to me from one of my spies, Severus Snape. He is currently missing, possibly dead, because of this. Are you familiar with the rest of them?” the headmaster asked, slightly shocked.

Ron, ignoring the old man’s question, leaned towards Harry and said, “Must be the seventh one, if you never defeated him. I wonder which one replaced Nagini? One of them must have. I don’t think he’d be paranoid enough to want a venomous horcrux yet.”

“I’m sorry, did you say seven?” the headmaster asked. Hermione turned slightly towards him and nodded absently before turning towards the others.

“Depending on when each of these were made, they must replace Harry and Nagini, which just makes it easier for us. Now, we have to figure out how to get the other. Since I don't feel like breaking into-" Hermione cut herself off at the looks she got from her friends

"Yeah, probably best we talk about this later." Neville said quietly.

Seeing the loss of further information on the war slipping away from him, the headmaster tried to convince them to share and said, “I am not a threat, am I? Certainly you can trust me with this information, after all, I already know this much."

Harry shook his head. "It is never good to desire a war, professor."

"But that is why I want to help! We can stop this war if you let me help you."

"With all due respect, sir, this is not a war yet, and I hope it never will be. We don't want to see a war here. We want to finish it before it starts again. That means keeping the information as exclusive as possible."

Obviously about to argue further, Dumbledore opened his mouth right as there was a knock at the door.

#*#*#

James Potter was very excited to see his wife. The last time had been on Halloween night, and that was hardly a good visit. Sure, he'd seen his best friend, his wife, and for a couple minutes, his daughter, but the only thing on his mind had been the family he'd lost years before. This was a much better day for a nice visit with his friends and family.

Too bad Padfoot was stuck cleaning up Moony's mess. He would be a lot more entertaining on this broom ride than that owl was.

In fact, that bird was really starting to annoy him. The stupid poultry had been following him everywhere for the past couple of days, and he was currently considering chopping its head off and giving it to Moony for a snack. Sure Remus wouldn't talk to him for a few weeks, but he'd forgive him eventually, right?

Apparently, the snowy owl could read minds, though, because it dive-bombed his head a few times before resuming its position slightly ahead of him.

'Bloody pompous pigeon' James thought. Quietly, though, just in case.

Turning his thoughts to other, less life threatening, thoughts, he tried figuring out how much further he was from the school. Looked like he was nearly there, so there was no need for him to send ahead his patronus. 

Hopefully he'd be able to spend time with his little girl this time. Thank Merlin she wouldn't ask to play princess ever again. Sirius had far too good a memory.

Maybe he and Lily would be able to have a bit of fun together tonight…

Of course, since he was also thinking about Him now, there was even less of a chance for him and Lily to play later. Oh well.

James noticed a familiar dead patch in the forest below him, and knew that he would soon get past the barriers and see the school. He slowed down, taking his time now that he was so close. 

The owl seemed more determined. It kept on it’s path, now definitely heading towards Hogwarts. He shrugged it off and started practicing old tricks he learned while a student.

#*#*#

The door opened to reveal a familiar seventh year. A healthy, living Colin Creevey stepped in and said, "Sorry, sir, is it a bad time? I've just got the new patrol schedule ready, thought you might want to see it before I handed it out to the prefects."

He stepped into the office, smiling and the group sitting in front of the headmaster, oblivious to the effect he had on them by his mere presence. Colin placed a parchment on the desk, the headmaster thanked him, and he left. 

Hermione and Ron both smiled at the door, relieved to see an old nuisance living a happy life.

To Neville, it was a wake up call. They must really be in another world. The boy he'd carried and placed next to the rest of the dead in the last battle was alive. And Head Boy no less. Such a sense of pride and pure joy swept over him that he nearly cried. 

Unfortunately, Harry had no such epiphany. Instead, all he felt was the overwhelming guilt, crushing his chest and making it nearly impossible to breathe. It was his fault that all those students had died. If he'd been better, faster, smarter, he might have saved them. To Harry, the sudden appearance of the eldest Creevey brother was a reminder of the future he practically stole from every dead witch and wizard. 

Ron thankfully saw the signs that Harry was close to a breakdown, and stood to grab him just as there was another knock. 

"A moment, please!" Ron yelled out. He dragged his best friend towards a side room that appeared to be a personal library. The library door shut as the office one opened.

"Harry, mate, talk to me. What happened just now? You know we can't let on what's going on just yet. It'll freak 'em out." 

There was no response. Nervously, Harry started pacing around a section of the room. There was the muffled sound of conversation coming from the office: probably introductions of a couple of the parents McGonagall had gone to fetch.

After he’d cast a few muffling and shield charms in preparation of the inevitable storm he was about to induce, Ron tried again, "Harry, we've got to go back out. Someone's arrived, and we can't keep them waiting forever. 'Sides, it was just Colin. And he was alive. He didn't die! Isn't that a good thing?"

Finally, the Boy-Who-Lived stopped pacing and lifted his gaze from the floor to glare at his best friend. “You just don’t get it! I can’t face anyone else. They aren’t our people, our reality! They haven’t seen what we have. They haven’t lived through our war!” Harry yelled. As expected, as soon as Harry looked up, his magic lashed out at the surrounding area. The charms were barely holding against the beating, but they were still there. Ron put more power into them anyway.

“But they’ve lived through theirs!” Ron insisted. “They have gone through the same loss as us. The only difference is theirs was more spread out. They have had time to heal. We haven’t. Yeah, so we’ve seen more nightmares, and lost more people. But they’re still alive here. They never went through the war, so they lived. If we want it to stay that way, we have to do something, and soon. They need us. They need the strength and experience that we have so that they can end their war. Now, 'Mione and Nev can stall them only so long. It’s our families that are waiting, not theirs. It’s our mess to deal with right now.”

For a moment, the boys just stood, trying to control themselves. Angry and distressed magic flung itself against the shields, looking for something to damage. The small storm got worse quickly before settling down and finally dying completely. Harry tensed and whispered, “It was hard enough seeing Colin, and he’s not even family. How can I face all of the people I failed? All the people I killed?”

“You haven’t failed anyone, mate, and you certainly have never killed anyone that didn't deserve it. They all died fighting for the end of the war, not because you couldn’t save them. Trust me, you never failed anyone.” Ron replied.

Another moment went by while Harry collected himself as much as he could. “Time to face our memories, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ron sighed. "Might be a good idea to visit the Chamber soon, huh?" He waved his wand to rid the side room of the shield charms and silencing charms. Harry gave Ron a sharp look, muttered "Thanks, Captain Obvious," and opened the door back to the headmaster’s office.


	4. Chapter 4

A long way from Hogwarts, in a shack that was unbalanced and worn, Molly Weasley stared at her clock. The charms couldn’t already be wearing down, could they? And if they were, wouldn’t the other hands be moving to unrealistic places as well? Why was it only the one hand that was acting up? 

She took it down from the wall and opened the front to see if something was in it and pushingthe hand. No, that wasn’t it. 

She took the charms off the clock. Perhaps one of the other hands had moved it and it stuck. All of the hands went limp. It wasn’t that either.

Maybe it was just a fluke. She cast the charms on all of the hands again. That one hand returned to it’s previous location. It was starting to frustrate her, so Molly placed it on the table and resolved to ask Arthur to fix it once he got home. 

For the next hour, her thoughts kept returning to the clock. She had watched the hand move from the spot labeled ‘deceased’ to the other side, only stopping at ‘traveling’ for a brief second before doubling back to ‘school’. 

At first when she saw the movement, she had hoped it was Percy’s moving to something other than ‘lost, ‘traveling’, ‘unknown’, and ‘mortal peril’. She had long given up on the two hands that had settled on “deceased’ would move at all. It was too soon after losing her eldest child for something so upsetting to happen.

It was while Molly hoped that Arthur would be able to fix the trinket that she heard a familiar voice calling her name from the fireplace. ‘At least I know it can’t be the twins this time, thank Merlin they graduated,’ she thought. 

#*#*# 

Surprisingly, the first thing Harry saw upon entering the room was not the mystery knocker, but instead a flurry of familiar feathers. It took him a moment to process what bird would dare attack a creature so much larger than itself. 

“Hedwig? Bloody hell, how on earth is that even possible?” Harry exclaimed at his owl, who had landed on his head long enough to dig her talons into his scalp. Harry held out a steady arm in an attempt to get her to at least land and calm down a bit. 

Behind him, Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but was beaten by Hermione, who had the answer ready since Hedwig had flown in. "She's your familiar. Or, at least she was where we were. I think it just transferred over, despite the circumstances. After all, even the impossible is only improbable. Especially, it seems, when it comes to you." 

"Haven't changed a bit, have you girl?" Harry said, finally having calmed her enough to get her to stay in one place. 

"Goodness gracious, that bird must like you. I haven't seen an owl that attached in a long while," said a new voice that was not all that new to any of the teens. "Arthur Weasley, by the way. Sorry I hadn't mentioned that sooner. Anyway, what was it you wanted me for, Albus?" 

Harry and Ron, finally seeing who had come in, studied the Weasley patriarch. The first thing they noticed was the lack of age that had been present in him in the other world. There were certainly worry lines, but they were nowhere near to the degree that they were used to seeing. 

There were also no scars to be seen anywhere on his person, where, in their world, there had been more scars than wrinkles. To them, he looked nearly twenty years younger. 

Oblivious to the teens' scrutiny, Dumbledore said, "Thank you, very much, for coming so quickly. I have some... I guess you could say unnerving news. Perhaps you should sit before I tell you.” 

He gestured to an empty chair. 

“This news should also be shared with Molly, but I think it would be best to tell you first. I assure you, it’s quite alright; nothing bad. In fact, most would consider it a miracle.” He glanced at the two boys, who had decided to remain in the shadows to minimize the shock. “I am quite glad to tell you that today, there was a wonderful accident that brought four individuals from their world into ours. We aren’t quite sure how, but-” Dumbledore explained their theory and their background to the increasingly more confused Arthur. Though once he mentioned the troll attack seven years prior, Arthur’s expression changed from one of confusion to one of hope. 

Finally, Dumbledore ended his explanation. “So, without wasting more time, I should think you’d like to meet your son. Ronald?” 

#*#*# 

A silent decision to leave certain parts of their story had been made well before they told Dumbledore anything; some things, they just didn't think the old man could take. The same agreement had been made over the parents, as they realized that this world would never have expected such young children to fight such large battles. That's was why telling Arthur Weasley their story took less than five minutes. During this time, Harry was discretely comforted by Neville; for some reason, Neville had the most calming presence out of all his friends. It's probably what made him so good with plants. 

By the time the Weasley matriarch arrived, her husband had been crying over his returned son for well over half an hour. 

“Arthur? What on earth has happened? Are you alright? Tell me what's wrong.” 

Lifting his head, he gestured her closer to him. “Molly, I want you to meet our son, Ron.”


End file.
